Sustainable Luxury Isn't Greed. It's Spaciousness.

I saw a post recently where someone was complaining about the cost of hiring artists... Again.

And honestly? It made me roll my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain.

Because here's the thing. Most people don't think twice about dropping thousands of dollars every year on giant corporations. New phones. Streaming services. Fast fashion. Amazon purchases. Subscriptions they forgot they even had. Nobody bats an eye.

But the second an artist, photographer, coach, tattoo artist, massage therapist, healer, or other service provider charges enough to actually support themselves, suddenly everyone wants to have a conversation about greed. Because goddess forbid that an creative or personal service actually charge their worth!

Baaaaabe.

Let's talk about greed.

Because I think a lot of people assume that because I'm anti-capitalist, rebellious, and spend a lot of time talking about community care, empowerment, dismantling harmful systems, and rejecting hustle culture, that I must somehow be against luxury.

I'm not.

In fact, the older I get, the more I realize luxury might be one of the most anti-capitalist things I offer.

Stay with me here...

Because when I say luxury, I don't mean yachts, designer handbags, private jets, or whatever Instagram is trying to convince us success looks like this week. I mean time. I mean presence. I mean craftsmanship. I mean creating something slowly, intentionally, and sustainably in a world that wants everything faster, cheaper, more convenient, and more disposable.

The most expensive thing I can give someone isn't a photograph.... It's my time!!

It's eighteen years of experience. It's the years I spent learning how to hold space for people when they're nervous, scared, grieving, disconnected from themselves, healing, celebrating, transforming, or trying to remember who the fuck they are underneath all the expectations placed on them. It's the years spent refining my craft, investing in education, making mistakes, learning from them, and becoming the artist, mentor, and human I am today.

And honestly? For a long time, I felt guilty charging for that.

I grew up with poverty breathing down my neck. I know what it's like to wonder how bills are getting paid. I know what it's like to feel guilty spending money on yourself. I know what it's like to believe that if you're a truly good person, you'll just keep giving and giving and giving until there's nothing left.

Turns out that's a fantastic way to burn yourself to the ground....Ask me how I know. 😒

I have spent most of my life undercharging, over-giving, over-delivering, over-extending, and pouring from cups that weren't just empty... they were fucking bone dry. Not because I didn't love what I do. Not because I wasn't passionate. Not because I wasn't grateful for every single client who trusted me.

I was exhausted because I was trying to build a business from survival mode. And when you're in survival mode, everything feels urgent.

You tell yourself you'll rest later. You'll slow down later. You'll take care of yourself later. You'll ask for help later. You'll finally exhale later.

....But later keeps moving further.. and further... away from now..

For a long time, I thought the goal was survival. Pay the bills. Keep the lights on. Get through another month. Make enough to breathe. And if you grow up with poverty breathing down your neck, that makes sense. Survival becomes familiar. Sometimes so familiar that even when things start getting better, your nervous system keeps acting like the wolf is still at the door. You keep preparing for disaster. You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You keep believing that if you just work harder, sacrifice more, and carry more, you'll finally earn the right to feel safe.

I've spent years untangling that story...because survival was never the dream.

The dream was spaciousness. The dream was having enough.

Enough time to think.

Enough rest to recover.

Enough support that I don't have to carry everything myself.

Enough money that every unexpected expense doesn't feel like an emergency.

Enough capacity that I can show up fully for my clients, my family, my community, and myself.

For a long time, I believed that wanting more than survival made me greedy. I think a lot of us are taught that. Especially women. Especially caregivers. Especially artists. Especially mothers. And especially queer, trans, and/or people of colour. Basically, if you aren't straight, white and male - you don't deserve ease and need to constantly prove your worth. Well - I call bullshit. I'm sick and tired of this strange message that we're allowed to have enough, but not too much, never too much.. That struggling keeps us humble. That exhaustion means we're working hard enough. That self-sacrifice is somehow more virtuous than sustainability.

I don't buy that anymore.

Not for myself. Not for other artists.

And definitely not for the real-life, larger-than-life people I mentor as they break out of these societal binds.

Because the thing nobody tells artists, photographers, coaches, healers, caregivers, and service providers is that burnout doesn't make you noble. It doesn't make you more ethical. It doesn't make you a better person.

It just makes you fucking exhausted.

And exhausted people can't create their best work. They can't support their communities. They can't show up fully for their clients. They can't build the kind of businesses that allow them to keep serving for decades.

I've spent years untangling the belief that charging sustainably somehow makes me greedy. Because the truth is, every time I undercharged, over-gave, ignored my own needs, and stretched myself too thin, nobody won.

Not me. Not my clients. Not my family. Not my team.

And definitely not the community I care so deeply about supporting!

Everyone lost because I was operating from depletion instead of abundance.

And here's where my anti-capitalist values actually come into play...

I hate manipulative marketing. I hate fear-based selling.

I hate watching businesses intentionally make people feel insecure so they'll buy something.

I hate extraction. I hate extortion. I hate the idea that success should come at the expense of other people.

That shit feels SO gross in my body.

But I also hate watching artists burn themselves to the ground because they've been convinced that struggling somehow makes them more ethical.

It doesn't.

You cannot build a sustainable business on self-abandonment.

Trust me.... I tried.

What I've come to understand is that sustainable pricing isn't about squeezing every dollar possible out of people. It's actually the opposite. It's creating enough space that nobody gets squeezed. Not the client. Not the artist. Not the makeup artist. Not the assistant. Not the support staff. Not the person doing the invisible labour behind the scenes.

Everyone gets taken care of. That's the goal.

The more healing I've done around money, the more I've realized that abundance isn't about hoarding wealth while everyone else suffers. That's not what I'm interested in creating. The version of abundance I believe in creates spaciousness for everyone involved.

When a client invests in a luxury experience with me, my goal isn't my bottom line. My goal is creating enough space that everybody wins. My client receives a deeply supportive, transformational experience. My makeup artist is compensated more than fairly. My vendors are compensated fairly. My family is supported. My business remains healthy. I can continue creating meaningful work without burning myself into the ground trying to prove my worth through suffering.

That's what ethical luxury means to me.

Not excess. Not status. Not superiority.

Spaciousness...Sustainability...Stewardship.

The ability for everyone involved to breathe a little deeper....

Because the truth is, I've lived the version where everyone gets a piece of me and nobody, including me, gets enough.

I'm not interested in building that anymore.

I'm interested in building a life, a business, and a community where people are supported well enough to thrive. Where artists are compensated fairly. Where service providers don't have to martyr themselves to prove they're good people. Where luxury isn't about exclusion, but about intention. Where success doesn't require burnout. And offering flexible solutions like payment plans and/or Klarna/Afterpay make it so I can charge my worth AND create budget-conscious options for most folks!

...Where money becomes a tool for creating freedom, stability, beauty, generosity, and most importantly... your impact.

And honestly?

I think that's a much more radical act than struggle ever was. xo- LJ Make sure you are following me on TikTok & instagram @lusciousrebel - and join my mailing list so you don't ever miss a beat... the beat of my own drum in my little corner of the internet ;)